


B.Y.O.B(aby)

by CJ_Jacobs



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Fluff, bechloe - Freeform, bechloe moms, domestic bechloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_Jacobs/pseuds/CJ_Jacobs
Summary: It's the night of the annual Bellas/Trebles reunion kegger, and new moms Chloe and Beca still aren't down with that whole 'babysitter' concept.





	B.Y.O.B(aby)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is another domestic Bechloe!moms one-shot along the lines of No Kissing, although this one actually takes place a little over a year *before* that one. In NK Violet is 3, in this one she’s between 1 ½ and 2. It’s not quite as domestic as the previous one, although it’s still pretty sappy imo.
> 
> Couple random notes:  
> *In my timeline, Beca and Chloe don’t get married until about 3 years after college, then they don’t have their first baby until after 3 years of marriage, and in this she’s almost 2, so this would take place approximately 8 years after graduation. Beca would be around 30, Chloe around 33.
> 
> *You don’t know Cynthia-Rose’s wife yet, so I didn’t use her name, but if you read my multi-chapter fic, you will eventually get to know her (and their relationship) in more detail.
> 
> *As always, thank you so, so much to the people who take the time to review, even if it’s just a few lines. Just because this kind of writing can be read quickly doesn’t mean it didn’t take me hours and hours (and hours) to write it. Now I’m going back to my multi-chapter, hopefully Chapter 3 will be up soon!

Beca leans into the open back door of the car and grabs an overstuffed diaper bag, which she passes out behind her to Chloe.  Chloe tries to swing the bag through the door but in the process smacks Beca on the side of the head with it.  

“Ahh!”

“Sorry!”

Leaning in further, Beca grabs yet another diaper bag, also stuffed.  “What is even  _ in  _ these, why did we bring so much stuff?”

“Beca.  Please don’t start.”

She pulls the second bag from the floor and hoists it awkwardly onto her shoulder, then begins tugging on the folded-up playpen.  Chloe reaches in to help, and they finally extract it from the back seat.

“Do we really need the playpen?” Beca can’t help asking.  “You know she won’t stay in it.”

“It’s for when she falls asleep,” Chloe explains.  Before Beca can close the door, she adds, “Grab those blankets, too.”

Beca suppresses an eye roll, but obediently ducks back into the car and retrieves a huge, unwieldy bundle of blankets, most of them printed with Disney characters.  She nudges the door shut with her knee and attempts to fold and condense the bundle into something smaller and less conspicuous.

“Okay, I think that’s it,” Chloe says, scanning their gear.  “We should be ready.”  She turns as if to head up the sidewalk toward Stacie’s house.

“Chlo,” Beca stops her, jerking her head toward the car.  “The baby?”

“Oh.  Right.”  Chloe winces and laughs a little, giving her a look that seems to say  _ Don’t tell anyone about that.   _ She crosses around to the other side of the car and opens the back door.  She gives an exaggerated gasp, then croons, “Hiii!  Look who’s awake!”

Beca follows, peering in at Violet, who’s just blinking herself into full consciousness but nevertheless already smiling.  “Good timing,” she comments, not sure if she means it to be literal or ironic.

“Are you ready to party?” Chloe asks the baby.

“Your very first kegger, this is a big deal,” Beca says wryly.  “You know, I figured she’d start early, but I didn’t think it would be  _ this  _ early.”

Chloe sighs with weary tolerance, as if she’s heard it all before, more than once.  She unfastens the straps of the toddler-sized car seat and lifts the baby out of it.  Violet at first wraps her arms around her neck in an instant cuddle, but upon spotting Beca already turning to head toward the house, she shifts her allegiance.  “Mama!”

“She wants you, Bec.”  Chloe gives the baby a loud, robust kiss on the cheek before holding her out to relinquish.  “That’s fine,” she tells Violet, pretending to be insulted.  “I don’t want you anyway, you probably need to be changed.”

“Then I don’t want her either,” Beca jokes as she takes her.

“Too late!” Chloe says, completing the pass-off.  She picks up the playpen that Beca now can’t carry and hoists it under one arm, keeping the diaper bag balanced on the other shoulder.  “Okay.”  She takes a deep breath.  “ _ Now _ we’re ready.”

Because of the number of cars already crowded around the front of Stacie’s house for the annual Bellas/Trebles reunion kegger, they weren’t able to park too close, so it takes a few minutes to make it to the door.  Chloe keeps sneaking glances at Beca as they walk.  “You’re really not mad at me?”

“No,” Beca insists.  “I already told you I’m not.  I mean,” she adds, “I think this could be a disaster.  But that’s on both of us.”

“It’s just, other than your family, everyone we know who watches her is gonna be  _ here _ .”

“I know that,” Beca says.  “We don’t need to go through this again.”  She glances over at Chloe and softens her tone.  “It’s gonna be fine.”

“I know,” Chloe agrees.  But she’s biting her bottom lip anxiously as they step up onto the porch.

“Hey.”  Beca stops and waits until she looks at her.  “Just try to have fun, okay?  Please?  We haven’t been to one of these in a while.  I want you to enjoy it.”

“I will.  We both will.”  She smiles a little.  “At least we look hot."

“Yeah.  Well, I mean,” Beca hedges, “ _ you _ do.  I dressed for comfort.”  She glances down at her low-cut tank with a simple plaid button-down over the top of it.

Chloe shakes her head, disputing this.  “You always look hot.”  She leans in for a quick kiss.  Pulling back a little, she adds, “Ooh, you smell hot too.”

“Yeah?”  Beca grins at her.  “This is your perfume, you narcissist.  I couldn’t find mine.”

Chloe smiles even bigger, still only a few inches away from Beca’s face.  “No wonder, then.”  They kiss one more time, then reluctantly pull apart and face the door.

“Ready for this?” Beca asks.

Again, Chloe looks worried.  “I just realized she’s probably gonna be the only kid here.  Are we crazy?”

“Definitely,” Beca says.  She hoists Violet up to the doorbell, asking her with exaggerated excitement, “You want to push the button?”

Chloe directs her hand, encouraging her.  “Look, right there.  Push it!”

Violet uses all the strength of her chubby little fingers to depress the button, then looks delighted when she hears the peel of the bell ringing inside the house.

“Good job!” they both tell her.

Resuming the conversation in her normal voice as she settles the baby back onto her hip, Beca now says, “I mean, it is what it is.  It’s not our fault if we can’t find a sitter.”

“That’s true.  Although,” Chloe lowers her voice to admit sheepishly, “we didn’t actually  _ look  _ for one.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that.  And honestly, I don’t think we should have to apologize for anything.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Chloe says, sounding as if she’s trying to convince herself.  “We’re parents.  We don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Right.  So, no apologies,” Beca repeats with an attempt at a casual shrug.

“No apologies,” Chloe agrees.  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Suddenly, the door is pulled open and Stacie is beaming at them.  When she sees the baby she looks mildly surprised.

They talk over each other in their haste.

“I’m so sorry, Stacie- ”

“We’re so sorry- ”

“We’re really,  _ really  _ sorry.  She’ll probably fall asleep soon- ”

“And we promise we’re gonna keep her out of the way- “

“Seriously, you won’t even know she’s here- “

“You guys,” Stacie interrupts them.  “It’s fine. I’m just so glad you made it.”  She pulls them into an unwieldy three-person hug.  “Get in here!”

It takes a few seconds to get through the door with all their stuff.  Stacie grabs the playpen to help out.

“Violet, who’s that?” Chloe asks in her mom-voice, pointing at Stacie.

Violet only needs a few seconds to think about it.  “Tacie!”

“That’s right, it’s Aunt Stacie!” Chloe praises her.

“She remembered!” Stacie looks as thrilled as if she’s just won a pageant.  Looking the baby over, she says, “I seriously can’t believe she’s still getting cuter.  Ughh, she’s gonna be a total heartbreaker one of these days.  So, what’s the deal, does she like boys, girls?  Both, what?”

Caught off guard by this question, Beca and Chloe shoot each other bewildered looks.  Beca offers slowly, “Um, she’s not even two yet?  So… jury’s still out.”

“Oh.”  Stacie is unperturbed.  “Well, when she figures it out, let me know.  I want to be the cool aunt who snags her her first hook-up.”

Forcing a smile, Chloe says in a bright but not entirely convincing way, “Yeah!  We’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

When Stacie turns to stash the playpen in a corner, Beca gives Chloe an amused look and a tiny head shake, as if to say,  _ No we won’t. _

They hear a strange metallic thunking behind them, then have to jump out of the way as Bumper comes through the room, rolling a beer keg in front of him.  “‘Scuse me Bellas, comin’ through.”  He pauses to address Beca and Chloe on his way into the backyard.  “Hey, saw you two ladies gettin’ freaky, on the porch.  Just brainstorming here, maybe if you find yourselves later, partaking of the brew,” he gestures at the keg, “you might, I don’t know, want to do some more of that?  Like, I don’t know, maybe in the pool?” He rolls it out through the patio door, but calls back, “Maybe topless?  I don’t know, all  _ kinds  _ of possibilities, the night is young.”

“It’s good to have dreams,” Beca calls after him.  To Chloe, she says, “You should go on out, I’ll stash this stuff somewhere, and then change her.”

“You want me to do it?” Chloe says.

“Yes,” Beca admits.  “But I’m not gonna ask you to.”

Chloe smiles.  “Good answer.”

At Stacie’s suggestion, Beca hauls most of their gear up to her bedroom.  After finally locating the diapers and getting the baby changed, she comes back down and goes out to the back yard, which is gradually filling up with people.  Almost immediately, she’s spotted by Amy.

“Hey, you’re here!” Amy says, coming toward her.  She nods toward Violet.  “Didn’t realize this party was B.Y.O.B.  Bring your own…  _ baby _ .” She imitates a record scratch sound effect.

“Clever.”  Beca smiles tightly.  “Saw your husband on the way in,” she informs her.

“Oh, yeah?  Sorry.  About that,” Amy says, apologizing without even needing to know exactly what he said.  

“Violet,” Beca now whispers to the baby, “you know who that is?”  She points at Amy.

“Ay-meee!” she crows.

“ _ Heyyyyy _ ,” Amy says, stepping closer and patting the bottom of her foot a bit cautiously.

“You want to hold her?” Beca offers.

She steps back, her  _ heeyyy  _ turning into a, “ _ Nooo. _ ”  She adds, “That’s all right.  Think I prefer to just appreciate from a safe distance.”

Beca can’t resist needling her a little.  “So, given any more thought to having one?”

“ _ Yeahhh _ , well, you know,” Amy hedges unconvincingly.  “We’ve given it some thought.  We’re keeping it on the table.  For example, just yesterday, we had relations, on a table.  At Bumper’s grandmother’s.”

Beca makes a face.  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s what that expression means.”

Amys sighs.  “ _ Welllll _ , it’s just, I feel like, I already have to see  _ yours,  _ at least a few times a year?” She gestures wearily at Violet.  “Sooo, that’s already a lot of responsibility.”

“Sure,” Beca says, humoring her as always.

“And, anyway, Bumper and I are providing the keg.  Which means, some of those younger girls will probably get knocked up tonight.  And so, in a way, I feel like, those babies will be  _ our  _ babies, as well.”

“Will they?” Beca looks skeptical.

Suddenly Violet begins wiggling and stretching her arms out to someone behind Beca.  “Cynna!” she calls urgently.  Beca turns and realizes she’s spotted Cynthia-Rose, who she knows and adores above all the other Bellas due to how often she sees her at their home studio in L.A.  

Cynthia-Rose has spotted them too.  “Oh, shit,” she laughs loudly, “they brought the kid.”  Leaving her wife chatting with Stacie, she approaches them, already holding her hands out for the straining Violet.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Beca tells her.  “Get it out of your system.”  She passes Violet over, then gives Amy a pointed look, as if to say, see,  _ that’s  _ what a normal person does when they see a baby.  Amy doesn’t look persuaded.  To be fair, Beca thinks, a few years ago she herself wouldn’t have been persuaded either.

As soon as she’s in her arms, Violet lifts Cynthia-Rose’s large cross necklace and sticks it into her mouth.

Amy watches, grossed-out.  “And, how does Jesus feel about that?”

Ignoring her, Cynthia-Rose says to Beca, almost accusingly, “Didn’t I tell you we got a sitter?  You coulda left her with ours, you know we wouldn’t have minded.”

With a covert scan to make sure she’s not nearby, Beca says, “Yeah, I know, but you know how Chloe is about this stuff.”

“Okay, but for real though,” she lowers her voice confidentially, “y’all have got to get this thing under control at some point, it’s been almost two years!”

“I’m aware.  But try telling her that.”  When both Cynthia-Rose and Amy look around as if trying to spot Chloe, Beca stops them, alarmed.  “No, don’t... actually do that, that was just rhetorical.”

“Cynna!” Violet now chirps, to get her attention.

“What, baby?”

In her sweetest voice, Violet asks, “Down?”

“Aww, she’s so polite,” Cynthia-Rose says.  She looks at Beca.  “You want me to let her down?”

Beca considers, then sighs, “I guess.  She just woke up, so she probably needs to burn off some energy.”

When she’s set onto her feet, Violet almost immediately toddles off at warp speed.

“Damn, look at her go,” Cynthia-Rose watches as she heads into the crowd.

“Yeah, she’s like,  _ really  _ super fast right now.”

“Like in a horror movie,” Amy comments, looking creeped out.

“I’ll be honest,” Beca admits, “it’s crossed my mind.”  She turns back to them.  “Just, help me keep an eye on her, would you, guys?  Chloe really needs a break.”

“You know we got your back,” Cynthia-Rose assures her.

But Amy looks non-committal.  “I can’t make any promises.  But what I can do, is fix your  _ front _ , because your bosoms are very saggy and lopsided right now, c’mere.”  She reaches out and begins adjusting Beca’s boobs.

“No, oh my God, Amy- “ Beca whines as she attempts to push her hands away, but it requires a struggle, which she tries to keep discreet, checking to see if anyone else is watching.

When Amy finally finishes, she tells her, “There.  No need to thank me.”

Beca pulls her button-down more tightly around her.  “ _ Such a freak _ ,” she huffs.  (But when she glances down, she has to acknowledge that her boobs do look better.)

Near the pool where he’s set up the keg, Bumper now raises his voice to make an announcement.  “Excuse me!  If I might entice all your eyeballs over this way,  _ un momento _ !  Just want to let everyone know, as the official, certified beer provider, that the tap on this baby is just a little… loosey-goosey.”  He drums on the top of the keg.  “Sticks a bit.  Sooo, let’s all just do our part to make sure we turn it off, all the way, to  _ completion _ .” He demonstrates with exaggerated motions.  “No drips.  Tuck ‘er up.  Because, you do not want to waste any of this precious brew, I’ll tell ya that right now.  This is primo ball sweat of the aca-gods right here, top quality, this shit was not cheap.  That’s why it’s so good.  Is everyone listening to me?”  (No one seems to be listening to him.)

Over near the liquor table at the very back of the yard, Chloe is mixing herself a virgin  piña colada , forcing herself to ignore the rum bottle as if it’s not even there.  Except for the few times she glances at it longingly.  Then she goes right back to ignoring it.  At the same time, despite Beca’s assertion that she needs a break, she’s keeping a keen eye on Violet in the distance, who’s now scampering around some of the younger Treblemakers, almost as if she’s trying to flirt with them.  Chloe’s so absorbed in watching the baby’s every move that she doesn’t even notice someone is standing right in front of her, waiting to get her attention.

“Chloe?” Aubrey finally prompts her with a smile.

She looks up, surprise and joy lighting up her features.  “Oh, hi!” she quickly sets her drink down to throw her arms around Aubrey in a tight hug.  “I didn’t even know you were here yet!”

“We just got here.”  Aubrey pulls back, but hangs onto Chloe’s hands for a second as she beams at her.  “I’m so glad you two made it this year.  This party really wasn’t the same without you.”

“I know, we hated missing it,” Chloe agrees.  “But two years ago I was pregnant, and I was so sick, and then last year she was so young, we didn’t want to fly…” she gestures over toward the baby as she says this, and Aubrey follows her gaze.

“Oh!”  Aubrey seems startled.  “She’s  _ here _ .”

“Yeah,” Chloe grimaces a bit in embarrassment.  “I know, I know, it’s not… ideal.  But we just didn’t want to miss three years in a row, and other than Beca’s family, everyone who watches her is at this party,” she repeats for the second time in less than twenty minutes.  Then she leans around Aubrey just a bit, trying to keep Violet in her field of vision.  “Sorry,” she explains, “just, trying to make sure she doesn’t suddenly start stripping.  She’s going through a really big naked phase right now.”

“Mm.”  Aubrey smiles.  “I remember the naked phase.”

“Oh, did yours do that too?” Chloe looks relieved.  “I thought maybe it was just something she inherited from me.”  She moves around to a different position slightly behind Aubrey so she can keep the baby in sight.

Aubrey turns to watch her, a mixture of sympathy and concern on her face.  “Chloe, is everything okay?  You just seem a little tense.”

“No!” she protests.  “I’m not tense.  Everything is amazing, actually.  I’m having the time of my life, I love being a full-time mom.”

Gently, Aubrey suggests, “But even full-time moms need a night off sometimes, right?  A chance to relax?”

“Not me,” Chloe says with an undeniably tense smile.  “I can do this twenty-four/seven.  I’m totally relaxed.”  But even as she’s speaking, her gaze keeps darting anxiously toward Violet, who’s moved over to some decorative shrubbery at the edge of the yard.  “Beca,” she now whisper-yells through clenched teeth.  “ _ Beca _ !”  When she finally gets Beca’s attention, she gestures with her head toward Violet, hissing, “ _ She’s eating the plant. _ ”

“Oh, got it,” Beca calls, hurrying toward the baby.  “I’m on it!”

Chloe turns back to Aubrey, her returning smile so rigid that it looks painful.  “ _ So _ relaxed,” she repeats.  Holding up her plastic cup, she says,“Cheers!  Then she gulps down the  piña colada as if she’s forgotten there’s no alcohol in it.

Over on the other side of the yard, Beca pulls Violet away from the shrubs and hastily tries to remove the shreds of leaf that are already in her mouth, muttering, “Seriously, dude, are you part rabbit?”  Seeing Stacie passing by, she gestures to the plant, attempting a casual tone.  “That’s probably not toxic, right?”

"Only to cats,” Stacie assures her.  Then she looks uncertain.  “I think.”

Beca considers these words.  “Yeah, do me a favor and don’t mention that to Chloe.”

She hoists Violet up into her arms and is still trying to examine her mouth for any remaining pieces of shrubbery when she hears a familiar male voice.   “Let me guess.  She ate something that’s not food?”

Beca looks up to see Jesse standing in front of her.  “Hey!”  

“Hey.”  He ducks in for a quick hug, made a bit awkward by the baby in the way.  

To answer his question, she adds, “Yeah, I thought we were past the  _ putting everything in your mouth _ phase, but tonight has proven me wrong.”

He looks Violet over, shaking his head in amazement.  “She got big.   _ Wow _ , that happens fast.”

“Tell me about it.  I feel like we just figured out how to take care of an infant, and now we don’t have one anymore.”

He smiles a little.  “It’s crazy how much she looks like both of you.”

“Well, she is half Mitchell,” Beca reminds him, a bit self-conscious.

“That’s right.  How  _ is  _ your brother, by the way?  You know, to this day, he remains the only person who’s ever punched me over the top of a Thanksgiving turkey.  I like to think we have a special bond.”

She laughs a little at the memory.  “Chris is okay.  Still… working through some issues.  Apparently you really can spend your whole life trying to get over your parents’ divorce.”

"Well, I’m just glad I got to help with the process,” he jokes.

Throughout this conversation, Violet has been quiet, studying Jesse with a puzzled expression.  Now she pipes up, holding up a chubby arm to point at him.  “Mama.  Who dat?”

“That’s my friend Jesse.  Can you say  _ Jesse _ ?” she prompts her.

Violet looks at him for another long moment, thinking about this.  Then she turns back to Beca and shakes her head with a simple, “No.”

“No?”  Beca laughs, unable to help herself.  “Not even gonna try it?  Sorry,” she shrugs at him.

He takes it with good humor.  “See, I feel like the rejection is a family trait, at this point?”

“To be fair,  _ no  _ is her favorite word right now.”

He laughs, then there’s a brief silence, and she can tell he’s going to ask something more serious.  

“So, you’re good?  Just, in general?  Because you look good,” he adds.

She smiles, and, without even intending to, glances over at Chloe, who’s talking to Flo, and looking more relaxed now that she knows the baby is safely in Beca’s arms.  As if sensing her gaze, Chloe looks over at her at nearly the exact same instant, her smile brightening as their eyes meet, and gives her a quick, almost imperceptible wink.  Beca turns back to Jesse, who’s watching her with affection.  Even though it seems he already has his answer, she confirms it.  “I’m good.”

Violet now kicks Beca in the thigh to get her attention.

“Ow!  What was that for?”

She leans her head against the side of Beca’s.  “Thirsty,” she enunciates carefully into her ear, as if it’s a secret.  It sounds like  _ tuwsty _ .

“You want a drink?  Okay, just a minute.”

Jesse gives her an out by saying, “Actually, I should go catch up with Benji.  Looks like someone’s put him in charge of manning the keg, and he’s afraid to move.”

She looks over to see that he’s right; on the other side of the pool, Benji is stranded and forlorn, with only the keg for company.  He spots them and gives a hopeful wave.

Jesse looks back at her.  In a sincere tone, he tells her, “It’s really great to see you, Beca.”

“You too.”  As she smiles warmly after him, watching him walk away, she receives another kick, this one harder than the first one.  “ _ Oh my God _ , okay!”

She carries Violet back to the drinks area, greeting Flo and then gladly passing the baby over to Chloe, who fawns, “There’s my girl!”

“She’s  _ really  _ thirsty, apparently,” Beca says.  She examines the table that contains mostly bottles of liquor, looking for something a toddler could drink.  “What goes well with shrub?”

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Chloe says, taking this question adorably seriously.

“Try pineapple juice,” Flo suggests, as if she might actually have some experience eating shrub.

“Worth a shot.”  Beca fills a plastic cup less than halfway, and with Chloe still holding the baby, carefully raises it to her lips and tips it for her to drink from.  Luckily, Violet seems to like the taste.  Chloe tries to hold her as still as possible so she won’t spill anything on herself.  While they’re concentrating on this task, they notice a bright flash of light, and they glance to the side to realize Amy has her phone out and is taking a picture of them.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asks her with a smile.

“It’s the rugrat’s first yellow solo cup,” Amy explains.  “This is a big moment.”  Pointedly, to Beca, she says, “See? I care.”

“Hey, you guys!”  

They turn at the sound of an excited new voice to see Emily, heavily pregnant, beaming and holding her arms out.

“Hi!” Chloe hugs her with the arm that’s not holding Violet.  “I’m so glad you made it, I didn’t know if you would.”

“I didn’t know if I would either,” Emily confirms.  “You brought the baby!” she adds as she tickles Violet, so far the only person who seems glad about this.  Then she pats the huge mound of her stomach and adds in a goofy voice, “I brought mine too.”

“I see that,” Chloe laughs.  “Aww, look at you.”  She glances at Beca with an emotional  _ Can you believe this? _ expression.

Beca looks a bit wistful, but refuses to show any emotion.  “So, it’s a boy, right?”

“Yep,” Emily nods.  “Well, I mean, it has a penis,” she hastens to correct herself.  “Beyond that, I don’t want to make any assumptions.”

“That’s very progressive of you,” Chloe tells her with pride.

Emily is gazing at Violet with a kind of sappy yearning.  “Can I hold her?” she asks.

“Absolutely.  Please do,” Chloe says, handing her over.

As she settles Violet onto her hip, the baby’s weight tugs her unusually low-cut shirt down, and she awkwardly tries to adjust it with the hand that’s already holding her ice water.

“Lookin’ hot, mama,” Flo remarks slyly.  Gesturing at her pregnancy-swollen chest, she teases, “Where did  _ these  _ come from, eh?”

“Oh,” Emily blushes a little, but looks pleased.  “I just thought, you know, I should take advantage of it.  While it lasts.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Chloe nods in solidarity.  “Enjoy it.  It’s one of the best parts.”

“So, how much longer until you squeeze it out?” Amy asks.  “Or… whatever happens, down there.”  She looks disturbed.  “Still not sure about the details.”

“Just six weeks,” Emily announces proudly.  But she cringes a bit as she adds, “I’m sort of freaking out, I don’t have anything ready.”

Unable to resist messing with her a little, Beca says, nodding toward Violet, “Well, this one showed up six weeks early, so, you might want to get on top of that, Legacy.”

Emily looks terrified.  “Oh God, I didn’t even think about that, what if he shows up early?”

Chloe hastens to assure her, “I’m sure everything’ll be fine.”  She shoots a furtive warning look at Beca, who does not look sorry at all.

Violet now leans over and reaches down into Emily’s plastic cup.  “What, you want some of my ice?” Emily asks, allowing her to root around in it.

Beca sees what’s going to happen before it even happens, but not soon enough to prevent it.  She watches in a kind of horrified slow-motion as Violet removes her hand from the cup clutching a handful of ice cubes, and then smoothly transfers them to Emily’s chest, dropping them straight down into her cleavage.

Emily squeals; Violet cackles with delight.

“ _ Violet _ !  Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Emily,” Chloe takes the baby back from her as Emily does a kind of helpless dance of misery, clawing at her chest.

Beca grimaces in sympathy, adding, “She does that to me all the time, she thinks it’s hilarious.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s fine!” Emily insists, forcing a smile even as her face is contorted with slightly comical agony.  “Just kids being kids, right?”  The thought doesn’t seem to comfort her much, considering what she has in store.  She tries to dig for the ice cubes without flashing everyone, but can’t seem to extract them all.  “Oh, wow, that’s  _ really  _ down in there.  You know what, I’m just gonna go… fish it out,” she waves her arms toward the house, still doing her best to sound unperturbed.  “I’ll be right back.  And don’t worry,” she tries to reassure them.  “It’s no big deal!”

“Sorry, again,” Beca calls after her.  “For what it’s worth, your boobs look really good!”

“Thank you!” she calls back.

Beca winces, looking at Chloe.  “Did that sound creepy?”

Chloe rotates her palm halfheartedly, as if to say,  _ Little bit. _

"God.”  Beca briefly puts her hands to her head, stepping closer to Chloe so they can have a bit of privacy.  “ _ So _ embarrassing.”  To Violet, she adds in a stern voice,  “I hope you enjoyed that, because this is your last party for a  _ long time _ , little girl.”

Violet just giggles, as if she actually understands this threat and wants to convey how little stock she puts in it.

Chloe sighs.  “Maybe we shouldn’t have let her sleep so long in the car.  She’s pretty wired.”

“Yeah, or maybe she shouldn’t be here at all.”

“ _ Really _ , Beca?”

“You know that it’s true.”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Chloe says, a dangerous edge to her voice, although her expression is still deceptively placid.  She moves further away, over to the other side of the drinks table, which irritates Beca.

“Okay,” she says, raising her voice so that Chloe can still hear her, “just as long as you know, we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually.  We have  _ got  _ to find somebody.”

At this, Chloe flares up and turns back toward her.  “Beca, I swear, if you say the n-word to me one more time!”

Alarmed, Beca freezes and glances around at the strange looks she’s getting from people nearby. “It’s nanny!” she says loudly, to no one in particular.  “The n-word is  _ nanny _ .  I just want to be clear about that.”

“Yes, and we’re not getting one,” Chloe says.  “ _ Ever _ .  I don’t know how many times I have to say it.”  

Not a fan of the anger that’s evident in Chloe’s tone, Violet now starts wiggling and straining her legs toward the ground.  “Mommy.  Down!” she commands, considerably less polite than she’d been with Cynthia-Rose.

“Okay, okay, sweetie,” Chloe obliges, lowering her to the ground.  “Stay right here, though.”  Beca’s hoping she’ll let the subject drop now, but nope.  She flashes right back to indignation as she straightens up.  “You know how I feel about this!”

“Chlo, I didn’t say anything about a nanny.”  She tries to keep her voice deliberately calm and low, to encourage Chloe to do the same.  

It doesn’t work.  Chloe gets even louder.  “You think I don’t know what you’re talking about?  You see?” she throws her arm out dramatically.  “I knew you were pissed about this.  I was right!”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” Beca insists.

“Yes, you are!  You just won’t admit it, as usual.”  She’s getting really worked up, starting to draw the attention of even more eavesdroppers.  A lot of their friends are standing too close to pretend that they can’t overhear this.  Aubrey is now one of them, looking worried about Chloe, which makes Beca inwardly cringe.  If there’s anyone she doesn’t want them airing their dirty laundry in front of, it’s Aubrey.

Increasingly embarrassed, Beca lowers her voice even more, barely above a whisper.  “Is this really the best place to have this conversation?”  But even as she says it, she knows she’s the one who started it.

“Well, obviously, you didn’t want to have this conversation at home, or in the car.”  Before Beca can even attempt to respond to this, she continues, “You know what, that’s fine.  I don’t care.  It’s good, actually.  Because I have something I want to say, and not just to you.”  She turns to the steadily growing group of onlookers, taking a deep breath as if she’s about to walk out on stage.  She projects her voice even more. “You think I don’t know that everyone here is judging me?  Because I do.  I can practically hear your thoughts.  I know you all think I’m crazy!”

“Nooo, we don’t,” Amy protests weakly.  “Not… any more than usual.”

“I get it, okay?” Chloe tells them.  “It’s not the first time I’m getting these looks.  And I didn’t miss the part of the invitation that said leave the kids at home.  But… I just can’t do that yet.  I can’t!  I’m sorry.  And I just feel like nobody understands.  You know, everyone keeps telling me, Chloe, you’ve got to deal with this separation anxiety.”  She throws her hands up wildly, adding in a mocking tone, “Like that’s even a real thing!”

“ _ Mmmm _ ,” Amy counters in high-pitched doubt, but Beca jabs her with an elbow before she can get any further.  

“And it’s not like I would ever think badly of anybody who  _ does  _ have a nanny, not at all!”  She glances at Aubrey, adding, “I absolutely believe every parent knows what works best for them.  I would never,  _ ever  _ judge another woman’s choices.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, Chloe,” Aubrey says in a soothing way, like she’s trying to calm her down.  Beca feels like telling her that they’re way past that point.  All they can do now is wait it out, and hope there are no props involved.  She spots Cynthia-Rose looking on as well, her arm around her own wife.  She meets Beca’s gaze with a look that’s a mixture of sympathetic and smug, obviously relieved that this time it’s not her.  In their ongoing competition for the gay marriage with the least drama, Beca knows she’s lost points tonight.

Chloe continues.  “But I know that it’s not the right choice for me.  You know, the first five years of a child’s life are so, so important,” she informs her audience, which now seemingly includes not just Beca or her friends, but everyone at the party.  “And I don’t want to miss any of it.  Not one moment.  It goes by so fast, and you can’t ever get that back.”

Her plaintive delivery makes it feel like she’s going for an award for Best Dramatic Monologue at a Kegger.  Beca’s mortified, but in a weird, twisted, way, she’s also proud, and she hopes everyone here knows that Chloe is her wife.  Because even when she’s acting a little unhinged, she’s always the most interesting, the most passionate, and yes, the hottest person in the room.  Somewhere deep in Beca’s psyche, maybe where the high school loner still lives, she has a shameless need to let everyone know that the prettiest and most popular girl chose  _ her _ .

In a contemplative tone, Chloe now takes it way back.  “See, I was raised by a nanny.  And she was incredible.  She was basically my mom.  I owe everything to her memory.  But I don’t want my daughter to grow up like that, always thinking there must be something more important to me than her.  I want to raise my own kid.  I need to do  _ everything  _ myself.”

“Like a peasant woman,” Flo supplies helpfully.

Beca thinks she’s being sardonic, but Chloe takes it literally.  “Yes, thank you, Flo!  Maybe it’s old-fashioned, or, you know, not the way most people raise kids these days. But I don’t care about that.”  She takes another breath, and it’s clear to Beca that she’s building up to the climax.  Looking into the middle distance with an inspired sparkle in her eyes as though she’s running for office, she announces, “I am a  _ hands-on mom _ !  And I refuse to apologize for that.  I need to have my child with me, all the time.  That’s the only way I can really, truly know that she’s safe!”

But nobody has a chance to respond to her grand finale in any way, because no sooner has she finished speaking than a collective gasp goes up from the assembled party-goers.  Chloe hears the gasp and immediately looks down, realizing with alarm that at the current moment the baby is not, in fact, with her.  “ _ Violet _ ?” she hisses, searching and scanning the area for her.

A growing wave of hushed titters and shocked murmuring starts near the back of the crowd and then travels quickly toward the liquor table as more and more people part to make way for someone coming through.  As they clear a space, Benji steps forward into the gap, carrying Violet out in front of him with his hands under her armpits.  

Everyone stares at her in shock, no one speaking at first.  She’s not  _ completely  _ naked - she still has her tiny sandals and her diaper on, but she’s removed her dress.  Besides her lack of clothing, however, she’s also soaking wet.  Her entire body is coated in liquid, her hair plastered to her head, the ends of it still dripping.  

“Oh my God!” Chloe exclaims.  From their different angles, she and Beca both rush to the baby at the same time, arriving just as Benji sets her on her feet.  They squat down to examine her, frantic with worry even though she’s not crying, both at first thinking she must have fallen in the pool.  But no, the smell that’s rising off her in waves is definitely not chlorine.

Before they can ask, Benji explains in a sheepish voice, “I was showing her a magic trick, but she threw my cards in the pool.  So, I went to fish them out, and when I turned back around she was… um, well, taking a keg shower.”

“This is  _ beer _ ?” Beca asks in disbelief.

“It didn’t get in her mouth,” Benji assures them.  “Just, sort of, everywhere else.”

“Oh my God,” Chloe repeats.  “ _ Beca _ !” she says accusingly.  “Why weren’t you watching her?”

“I’m sorry!  I guess I was just really absorbed in your hands-on mom speech.”

Chloe wisely chooses not to pursue this line of argument.  She uses her shirt to try to wipe the worst of the beer away from Violet’s face.

Bumper suddenly pushes his way to the front, extremely worked-up but trying hard to keep it under control.  “People!  Did I not mention that  _ the tap sticks _ ?  Okay, well,” he throws his arms up and then plants his hands on his hips, “that’s at least a gallon of beer, wasted, on a baby.  No big deal!  Except that she can’t even appreciate it.”  He gives a massive shrug, “Or, maybe she can, I don’t know, she’s not my kid.  Who knows?  If I  _ had  _ a kid, that kid would not be  _ here _ , that’s what I do know.  Hey, I wonder,” he fake-muses, “does she know how much that keg cost?  What’s that?” he pretends that someone has asked.  “No, she doesn’t?  Because she’s a baby?  Well, allow me to enlighten you folks, then.  Two hundred bucks.  That’s how much that keg cost,” he sticks his arm out in the direction of the keg.  “Two hundred smackeroos!”  

Amy cuts in with a bored-sounding, “Yeah, Bumper, everyone knows you brought the beer.”

“Oh, do they?  That’s funny, because, I haven’t heard any thank-yous.  Not that I would complain about it, because that would be tacky.  And I have class.  Unlike everybody else here, who apparently thinks that beer grows on trees.  Or, that I have, I don’t know, maybe, a beer cow, that I just milk-” he mimes milking a cow “- and hey, look at that, the beer just squirts right out.  Free beer!  Everyone, grab a teat!”  He turns his ire on Benji.  “Damn it, Benji, I gave you  _ one job _ ! _ ” _

Poor Benji shrugs his hapless apology.

Chloe scoops the baby up and wraps her arms around her protectively, although Violet seems totally unperturbed and in no danger of crying.  In fact, she’s been watching Bumper’s rant with a kind of fascinated enjoyment.

Approaching Stacie, Chloe tells her, “I’m so sorry, Stacie.  I don’t know how she got over there so fast.”

“Eh, who cares,” Stacie says, making a face down at her plastic cup.  “This beer tastes like ass.  Literally.”

Beca looks disturbed by this assertion, but chooses not to comment.

“Do you mind if we give her a quick bath?” Chloe asks.

“No, of course not.  Use my bathroom upstairs, it’ll be more private.”

“Thank you.”  She glances behind her at Beca to make sure she’s following.  

They start toward the house, Beca guiding Chloe with an arm around her through the increasingly crowded party.  “‘Excuse us!” she says, pushing through.  Not far from the keg, she spots Violet’s flowered sundress where it had obviously been removed and flung off onto the ground by their tiny stripper.  She stoops quickly and grabs it as they pass by.

Near the back door, a group of current Barden Bellas and Treblemakers are gathered, drinks in hand.  Beca tries not to be resentful of how extremely young and carefree they look, or of the fact that most of them seem to be trying not to laugh as she and Chloe pass through their midst, carrying the nearly naked, booze-drenched Violet.

Chloe doesn’t even seem to notice them as she ducks into the house with the baby, but Beca can’t resist pausing in the doorway to address them with a note of irony.  “So, this should be a great incentive to really double down on that birth control.”

One of the girls seems confused.  “Aren’t you lesbians?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Beca admits with a slow nod.  “So there’s… really no excuse.”  Giving them a tight, awkward smile, she follows Chloe into the house. 

Upstairs, once inside the bathroom that adjoins Stacie’s bedroom, she closes the door behind her and leans back against it.  Chloe has already started the bathwater running and is kneeling on the floor, examining Violet more closely.  Beca can tell by the tense set of her shoulders that she’s well on her way to freak-out mode.

“Chloe?” she says warily.  “Please calm down.  She’s fine.”

“She’s not fine.  Our baby is soaked in beer!”

Beca puts a hand over her own mouth, trying hard to keep it under control.

Chloe glances at her with disbelief.  “Are you laughing?  This is not funny.”

“I mean…  it’s  _ kinda  _ funny.”

“Beca!”

“What?  She didn’t  _ drink  _ it.  She’s just wearing it.”

Chloe shakes her head, but has to firmly bite her own bottom lip to keep herself from laughing.

“I saw that,” Beca tells her.  “And, at least she took her clothes off first, right?  That was smart.”  She moves away from the door, catching another strong whiff of the yeasty odor.  “Ugh. What kind of beer  _ is  _ that?”

“A better question is, what kind of parents are we?” Chloe lectures her.  “What if someone calls Social Services?”

Beca rolls her eyes.  “Oh my God, no one’s gonna do that, these are our friends.  Most of these people were at our wedding.”  As she talks, she steps around the two of them to check the temperature of the bathwater, then, judging it deep enough, shuts the faucet off.

“Look at this, it’s even in her diaper,” Chloe moans, pulling it off.  “Baby, why did you stand there so long?”

Violet points at the soaked diaper.  “Beer.”

“Hey, she learned a new word!” Beca says.  “That’s exciting, right?”

Chloe gives her an incredulous look.

“It could be worse,” Beca points out.  “She’s not even crying.  I think she enjoyed it, actually.  Not sure what  _ that  _ means for the future.”  

Since Chloe still seems to be in a mild state of shock, Beca lifts the baby and lowers her gently into the tub.  Violet compliantly plops down into the water.  “Good girl,” Beca tells her.

Now Chloe pulls herself over to kneel next to her.  But when Beca looks at her, she’s gripping the edge of the bathtub, staring into space and still shaking her head with a distraught look, probably imagining the two of them being arrested for child endangerment.

“Babe.”  Beca reaches out and rubs slow circles on her back, making an effort to sound like less of an asshole.  “You need to relax.  Look at me.”  She waits until Chloe finally glances her way, insisting, “This is not a big deal.”

Not convinced, Chloe looks away again, briefly shutting her eyes and murmuring as if to herself, “It’s so humiliating.  Why did I have to make a speech?”

To attempt to hide her smile, Beca ducks her head and presses her lips to Chloe’s arm, where it rests on the rim of the bathtub.  When she raises her gaze to her again, she says, “Hey.  It was a really good speech.”

Finally, even Chloe can’t hold back.  The amusement bursts out of her in a snort that’s halfway to hysteria.  “Shut up,” she laughs.   She looks at Beca, who’s smirking back at her, and laughs a little more, silently, her upper body shaking as she gives in to the inevitable absurdity of the whole thing.  Briefly she hides her face in her hands, groaning and shaking her head one more time in self-reproach. Then she drops her hands and just sits there as Beca continues to rub her back.  After a few seconds, she heaves a huge sigh of resignation.  Turning and pulling two washcloths from a nearby shelf, she thrusts one at Beca, saying in a weary, fake-crabby tone, “Help me wash the beer off our daughter.”

They come at her from both sides, lathering her up and gently wiping and then rinsing away every last trace of booze, singing to her to keep her distracted and holding still.  She chimes in on words she knows, but mostly just hums tunelessly.  When it’s time to wash her hair, Chloe hunts for the mildest-scented bottle of shampoo she can find, but cautions Beca, “Just, be really careful, if it gets in her eyes- ”

“I know,” Beca tells her.  She may not do this quite as often as Chloe, but she at least knows the difference between baby shampoo and regular shampoo.  They carefully work the foam into her light ginger locks, which have only in recent months begun to thicken out of their infant wispiness.  Then Beca uses her hands to form a kind of shield over Violet’s eyes while Chloe rinses the soap from her hair with a finicky caution.  It takes forever, but there are no tears or screaming, so it’s worth it.

She’s clean now, but Violet, always a big fan of bathtime, shows no inclination to get out of the tub.  “Mama.  Pony?” she asks hopefully.

“Pony?” Beca repeats.  “I don’t know what that means.”

“She wants her bath toys,” Chloe interprets.

“Oh.  You didn’t pack those?”

“I didn’t predict a bath.  I can’t think of everything.”

“I’m  _ kidding _ ,” Beca says.  She maneuvers herself around so she can reach the drawers underneath the sink.  “Maybe there’s something in here she can play with.”  She digs around among various bottles of shower gel and bubble bath.  Holding up an oddly-shaped neon green rubber object, she says, “What about this?”  

Chloe winces, shaking her head.  “Mm, no, I think that’s a sex toy.”

Beca lets it drop from her hand with a shudder, saying under her breath, “In the  _ bathroom _ , Stacie?”  Closing that drawer, she opens another one and finds an assortment of hair accessories.  “How about some plastic curling rods?”  She holds them up to show Chloe.  “Those have probably never been inside anybody, right?”

“That’ll work,” Chloe agrees.  She takes them and holds them up in front of Violet, gasping excitedly, “What’s this?”

Violet coos and reaches up for the bright pink and turquoise rods.

Once she’s occupied with the makeshift toys, the two of them turn around and sit on the floor, taking the opportunity to relax for a few minutes.  They lean back against the bathtub, shoulders pressed together.

She knows there’s a risk in bringing it up, but Beca figures since the night is already something of a disaster, she might as well.  Tentatively, she says, “So… here’s the thing.  I’m not gonna say the n-word again.  But we at least have to find a b-word, that we can trust.”

Chloe looks confused.

“A babysitter,” she clarifies.

“Oh.”

“Someone who’s not one of our friends.”

Chloe sighs, with an air of giving in to the inevitable after a long struggle. “I know, I  _ know _ .”

Relieved that they’re at least on the same page about this, Beca suggests, “What about that girl next door?  She seems really cool.  And mature.”  

Chloe lifts Beca’s left hand from where it rests on her knee, holding it in her own hands and idly toying with her wedding ring as she considers this option.  “I don’t know.”  She looks thoughtful.  “She’s only seventeen.”

“Didn’t you say you started babysitting when you were twelve?”

“Yes,” she acknowledges.  “But people were more stupid and irresponsible then.  I had ‘NSync posters on my wall, Beca.  What were those parents thinking?”

Choosing not to continue this line of debate, Beca gives in with, “Okay, maybe not the girl next door.  But  _ someone _ .  Just promise me we’re gonna start looking, for real.  It’s time.”

Not answering right away, Chloe finally lifts Beca’s hand to her lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.  “I promise,” she says, barely above a whisper.

Beca’s quiet for a few seconds.  She knows it’s not an easy promise for her to make.  “Thank you.”

“But don’t act like it’s just me,” Chloe can’t help adding.  “You wouldn’t want to leave her with strangers, either.”

“I didn’t say it was just you.  But it’s different.  I’m already away from her all day when I’m in the studio.  You’re hardly ever away from her.”  Beca glances back behind her at Violet, who’s still perfectly happy, now absorbed in the task of trying to yank an entire washcloth through the middle of one of the curling rods.

“I just don’t know how she’s gonna react.”  Chloe tries to sound reasonable but can’t keep the anxiety out of her tone.

“How she’s gonna react, or how  _ you’re _ gonna react?” Beca presses her.  “Because she’s really outgoing.  She loves everyone.”  Then she amends this, looking puzzled.  “Except Jesse, for some reason.”

“I know she does,” Chloe admits.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.  I just never thought this would be so scary.”  After a few seconds of musing, she adds, “I don’t get how people do it.  How does anyone just leave their baby with someone else for hours at a time?  I can’t see her, I can’t hear her if she cries, if something happens I can’t get to her right away...” she trails off.  “That makes me sound crazy, doesn’t it?”

Beca denies this.  “No, it doesn’t.  It makes you sound like a really good mom.”  She hesitates.  “But, I mean, you’re not  _ just  _ a mom.  You’re still Chloe Beale.”  She grins a little.  “Legendary party animal.”  

Chloe looks amused, but shakes her head.  “I’m Chloe Mitchell now.  She’s not quite as wild.”

Beca bites her bottom lip, then reminds her, “You went swimming in a fountain at our wedding reception.”

Her smile grows bigger.  “That’s true.  So did you, though.”

“Because you pulled me in,” Beca says with affection.  Turning her head to face her, she watches her profile for a few seconds.  Then she lifts her arm and gently brushes Chloe’s hair back behind her ear, letting her hand linger to stroke down the length of her loose curls.  “All I’m saying is, you should still be able to get crazy sometimes.”

These words seem to strike a chord.  “It’s funny, Aubrey was telling me the same thing earlier.”

Beca raises her eyebrows.  “She was?  Well, then I know this is something I  _ really  _ don’t say very often, but… Aubrey’s right.  Do you even know how long it’s been since you got drunk?”

Chloe thinks about it, then gives a tiny shrug.  “Since before I got pregnant.”

“Yeah,” Beca says meaningfully.  “It’s been over two years, dude.  That’s insane.”  She continues playing with the lock of hair, running it through her fingers.  “I miss drunk Chloe,” she teases softly.  “I fell in love with drunk Chloe.”

“Aww.  Really?”  In a wistful tone, Chloe says, “I wish I could remember that.”

Beca laughs, and then they’re both laughing.

Then they’re quiet for a second, and only now does the reality of the situation they’re in seem to dawn on Chloe.  She looks over at her.  “Beca,” she whispers, then leans over into her and presses her head against Beca’s shoulder, hiding her face for a minute as she groans, “What are we doing?   _ We brought our baby to a kegger _ .”

Beca holds her, balancing her chin on Chloe’s head as she fully absorbs the meaning of these words for the first time, caught between laughter and mortification.  “We really did.”

Chloe shakes a little as she spends the rest of her nearly-hysterical mirth.  Finally, she raises her head a little and presses her lips to Beca’s neck, just under her ear.  “It’ll be a great story someday, right?” she asks, seeking reassurance.

“Definitely,” Beca tries to sound confident.  “I mean, it kind of already is.  In my opinion.”  

“Bottom line, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Chloe says.  “I refuse to be ashamed.”

Beca peeks back behind them at the baby again, then winces.  “Good.”  She waits a beat before delivering the news.  “Because I think she just pooped in the bathtub.”

Gasping, Chloe sits up fast, spinning around to confirm this for herself.  “ _ Violet _ !  Oh, baby, no, no… Are you going for some kind of record tonight?”

Beca turns all the way around too.  “Maybe it was the pineapple juice,” she suggests.  She makes a disgusted face as she looks into the tub, pondering to herself, “ _ Why _ is that so much more gross than when it’s in her diaper?”

Standing the baby up, Chloe splashes her legs with what’s left of the clean water.  

Violet stares down into the tub.  “Poop,” she offers conversationally.

“ _ Yes _ , it is,” Beca agrees.  “A lot of it.”

Chloe offers Beca a choice.  “You want to get her dressed, or clean out the tub?”

At this, Beca scoffs, already reaching for Violet.  “What do you think?”

Chloe passes the baby up to her.  “Coward,” she mutters with a tiny smile.  “Don’t forget to dry her hair,” she reminds Beca as she watches her wrap Violet in a towel.

Carrying her into Stacie’s bedroom, Beca calls back, “Did you bring her pajamas?”

“What do you think?” Chloe echoes her.

By the time Chloe finally finishes cleaning up the bathroom, she comes into the bedroom to find Violet dry and in her pajamas, lying on her back in the middle of the bed, clutching a bottle.  Beca’s lying on her side next to her, head propped on her hand.  Chloe sinks onto the bed and settles herself in the same position, but on her right side, the two of them forming mirror images with the baby between them.

“I was thinking, we should probably just go.”

“No,” Beca protests.  “We are not doing that, we just got here.  They haven’t even had the drunk riff-off yet,” she reminds Chloe.

“Yeah, but what’s the point?” Chloe sounds glum.  “You’re not allowed to participate if you’re sober.  Which is kind of ironic,” she reflects, “because I’m actually  _ better  _ at it when I’m drunk.”  Before Beca can come up with a rebuttal to this, Chloe goes on.  “I just feel like we’re ruining the whole vibe.  This is supposed to be a throwback to college.  Do you feel like a college student right now?”

The answer to this is so obvious that she doesn’t need to say it.  Beca is silent, both of them gazing down at the baby.  “With all that running around, maybe she’ll go back to sleep soon.”  She strokes Violet’s hair, still slightly damp.  “Are you getting tired?” she says quietly.

She regrets these words immediately.  Violet pulls the bottle out of her mouth and struggles up to a sitting position, proclaiming with defiance, “No!”

Chloe cringes.  “Beca!  What are you thinking, you can’t  _ ask  _ her that.”

“Ughhh, I  _ know _ , I’m an idiot,” she chastises herself as she falls back flat on the bed, a hand on her forehead.

Violet pulls herself up to her feet and begins toddling around on the bed.  They both remain where they are for a few seconds, hoping it’ll entice her back.  But then they hear the sound of a drawer sliding open.  “What is she doing?” Chloe whispers.

Beca sits up to check, then moves hastily to close the top of Stacie’s bedside nightstand, which Violet is already digging through.  “No-no-no-no-no,” she tells her, lifting her up.  “We’re not gonna go through Aunt Stacie’s stuff.  God knows what you’ll find in  _ that  _ drawer.”

As she’s pulled away from her discovery, Violet gives an outraged squawk.

“I know, I know,” Beca tells her with fake sympathy.  “I’m horrible.”

Not at all appreciating this sarcasm, she’s screwing her face up and drawing in breath for what looks like the beginnings of an epic tantrum.  Chloe moves fast to distract her, pulling herself up from the bed.

“Look, sweetie, you want to look out the window?”  She takes the baby from Beca and carries her to the window.  “Oh my gosh!  We can see all the people from up here!”  She makes this sound much more exciting than it is, but it works.  Violet forgets to complete her sob; her chin is still tucked up in a frozen pout, but she gazes down at the party with interest.  After a few seconds of watching, her face lights up with recognition as she points.  “Ay-meee!”

“Yep, there’s Aunt Amy!” Chloe confirms.  “She’s…  _ twerking _ .  There’s a word we don’t need to add to your vocabulary yet.”

Beca comes to stand beside her at the window.  Scanning the party below, she remarks, “Looks like Lilly’s here.”

“She is?  Where?”

Beca points, and Chloe has to strain to make her out.  Standing against the lush shrubbery, Lilly is barely visible, almost blending into the background as she warily watches everyone else.  “Is she wearing camouflage?”  Chloe sounds perplexed.  

“Of course she is,” Beca says, no longer surprised by any level of weirdness.

It’s now completely dark outside, the backyard lit by decorative sconces and strands of colored lights.  But other than Amy and a few others, not many people are dancing, or doing much besides milling around and chatting.

“This party’s kinda lame,” Beca can’t help remarking.  “Everyone else might as well have brought their kids.  It’s like we don’t even know how to do this anymore.”

“Maybe we’re getting too old.”  Chloe sounds a little sad.

Beca looks over at her for a minute, considering.  An idea is forming in her mind.  Before she can talk herself out of it, she says, “You know what?  Give me the baby.”

Chloe looks confused, but she doesn’t try to stop Beca from taking her.  “Why?”

“Because you’re going back down there.  And you’re gonna show these losers how it’s done.”

Chloe smiles, but immediately shakes her head.  “Beca, I can’t.”

“Yes.  You can!  You know why?  Because I’m gonna be the designated grown-up tonight.”  At the expression on Chloe’s face, she says, “Why is that funny?”

Trying not to laugh, Chloe says, “You just ran away from bathtub poop.”

Because she can’t argue this point, she sidesteps it.  “Well, I… am a new woman now.”  She glances toward the bathroom door.  “If there was any left, I would clean it up.”  Her smiles fades slightly.  “There’s not, though, right?”

Gazing at her with love, Chloe says, “It’s so, so sweet of you, babe.  But I just can’t do that anymore.”  She looks toward the window.  “What would people think?”

“They would think that you really need a break,” Beca argues.  “And a chance to let loose a little bit.  And, honestly?  They would be thrilled.  Because they suck at this.”  Earnestly, she tells her, "This party needs you, Chlo."

They both look down at the scene again, and Beca can feel Chloe’s resolve weakening.  “It’s like they don’t even know what they’re doing,” she murmurs with pity.

“It’s sad, is what it is,” Beca agrees. “You know, I was thinking earlier, that new crop of Bellas?  They’ve never even seen you in action.  And there’s something really wrong about that.”

Suddenly Chloe reaches out and touches the window, a note of pure longing in her voice as she breathes, “Oh, Beca,  _ look _ .  They have jello shots.”

“See?  How can you pass that up?”  She tries another angle, teasing, “I mean, come on, you already smell like beer.”

Chloe makes a face as she sniffs her shirt.  “I do, don’t I?”  She watches as Stacie offers the jello shots to Flo, who declines them.  “Oh, Flo, don’t say no,” Chloe sounds disappointed.  “Why is she saying no?”

“Because you’re not there to talk her into it.”  Then Beca hears these words and reflects, “This is kind of like _ It’s a Wonderful Life. _  Only, like, the party version,” she nudges Chloe.  “You get to see what a party is like without you.”

Chloe laughs a little, but then is quiet for a few seconds.  Beca can tell she’s actually considering it now.  When she realizes how much she wants to go, she becomes even more determined to get her down there.

“Hey.”  Beca waits until she turns.  “ _ Go _ ,” she implores her.  “Seriously.  I’ll stay with her.  We’ll be right up here.  I mean, who’s a better babysitter than me?”

Somewhat to her surprise, Chloe closes her eyes tightly and appears to be extremely close to giving in.  “I really do want to,” she admits, just above a whisper.

Beca practically holds her breath, deciding to just wait it out and not push her.

After a long moment and an obvious internal debate, Chloe finally opens her eyes and says, in a rush of air, “ _ Okay _ .”

“Yeah?”  Beca can hardly believe it.

“Yeah,” she nods.  “I think I really need this.”

“You  _ do _ .  But, you’re gonna do it right, okay?  No sipping on wine coolers.  I want you to get blitzed,” Beca orders her.  “I mean it.  I want you to win that riff-off.  I want to see you performing borderline offensive dance moves, and doing body shots off of someone who’s not me.”

“ _ Really _ .”  Chloe seems intrigued by this last part.  “Any preferences?”

Beca shrugs.  “No.  I don’t know, maybe Aubrey?”

Chloe’s eyebrows shoot up.  “That was quick.”

Looking disturbed by her own words, Beca suggests, “Let’s not overthink it.”

Chloe looks toward the door, but still seems reluctant to leave.  “I just hope I remember how to do this.”

“It’ll come back to you,” Beca jokes.  “Make it count.  Just, you know, don’t break any bones.  Or get arrested.  And remember, your alcohol tolerance is probably lower after all this time, so pace yourself.  You know what, I’ll keep an eye on you from the window.”

Flirtatious, Chloe asks, “Like my sober guardian angel?”

“Exactly.  And the more you drink, the closer I come to getting my wings.”

Chloe laughs with affection.  “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”  She gestures toward Violet.  “Maybe I’ll come down for a few minutes when she’s really out cold.  I think she’s juuuust about to doze off.  She’s got my hair.  Telltale sign.”  It’s true, Violet now has a chunk of Beca’s hair wrapped tightly around the fingers of her left hand, one of her signature bedtime routines.

Gazing at them both for a few seconds, Chloe says softly, “I love you so much.  You’re the best wife a girl could ask for.”

Beca says, “Yeah, well, remember this, next time I do something incredibly juvenile and selfish.  So, probably tomorrow.”

Chloe just smiles and shakes her head, refusing to concede the point.  “You’re much better at this than you think you are.”  In an even more sincere voice, she adds, “You are  _ such  _ a good mom, Beca, you know that?”

Beca feels herself blush just slightly, then she gets awkward about the fact that she’s getting awkward.  Retreating to comfortable sarcasm, she rolls her eyes slightly.  “Well.  I don’t know if I’m good enough to make a  _ speech  _ or anything…”

Chloe’s smile grows even bigger as she pushes in closer for a kiss.  She lingers longer than she’d intended to, cupping Beca’s face in her hands and stroking her cheeks, closing her eyes and slowing down even more as Beca’s lips part and she deepens the kiss, both of them seeming to temporarily forget the baby only inches away.

When she finally tries to pull back, Chloe realizes she’s stuck.  “Oh no, now she’s got my hair too.”

“Violet, let go,” Beca urges her.  

“Let go, baby,” Chloe pleads, both of them trying to disentangle Chloe’s hair from their toddler’s surprisingly strong grasp.  

When she’s finally freed, Chloe turns  toward the door.  But before she makes it even a few steps, she turns around, once again looking uncertain.  “I don’t know, maybe that’s a sign, maybe I shouldn’t- "

“Oh my God, go!” Beca cuts her off.

She takes a deep breath, nodding as she regains her nerve.  “Okay.  Okay, I’m gonna go.”

She returns and ducks back in for one more quick kiss, holding her hair out of the way.  “Wish me luck.”  Then she gives Violet a kiss on her forehead, telling her, “Mommy’s gonna go get plastered.”

“Love you,” Beca tells her as she heads to the door.  “Drink some for me!” 

“I will.”

“Not the beer, though,” she specifies, making a face.

“Oh, no, I’m goin’ straight for the hard stuff,” Chloe says, a gleam in her eyes as if she can’t wait.

“That’s my girl!” Beca calls after her.  She listens as Chloe runs downstairs, greeting someone with excitement in the kitchen, her muffled voice already sounding lighter and younger.

Alone in the room, Beca doesn’t immediately head over to the window again, but slowly paces back and forth with the baby, rubbing her back and trying her best to keep things soothing and sleep-oriented.  She hears the music outside change to a heavier dance beat and suspects Chloe has something to do with it, but luckily it doesn’t disturb Violet.  She’s used to loud music, probably since she was in utero.  In fact, Beca used to sit for hours each night with a pair of headphones wrapped around Chloe’s growing stomach, introducing the baby to all her favorite genres by theme, while Chloe alternated between laughter and a kind of smitten adoration at how seriously Beca took the project.

Now her arms are getting tired as Violet’s body becomes heavier and limp with sleepiness.  Beca shifts her weight slightly and goes to stand at the window again.  When she looks out at the scene, she has to smile.  Already, after only ten minutes or so, Chloe seems to be well on her way to  _ hammered _ .  The alcohol must have indeed hit her fast.  She’s currently got an arm slung around both Jessica and Ashley, who seem to have just arrived.  Beca hopes it’s out of affection and not because she already needs assistance to walk.

The music changes again, to an early nineties hip hop beat.  Beca recognizes the song after a few seconds as  _ Rump Shaker _ by Wreckx-N-Effect, one of Chloe’s all-time favorites, as attested by the way her face lights up at the sound.  Now she’s really in her element, leading and orchestrating the entire party like a maestro conductor with her symphony.  Over the course of just a few minutes, Beca watches as she does some more of the jello shots, then convinces nearly everyone else to do some too; she dances with Aubrey and tries in vain to show her how to shake her rump; she arm-wrestles Cynthia-Rose (who quite obviously lets her win) and does some tequila shots in victory; she tries to charm the still-petulant Bumper, whose blush after she kisses his cheek is visible even from the second floor; she jumps on top of Amy for a piggyback ride and drags Lilly from her hiding place; she takes selfies with all the new Bellas; she dances with Jesse and also tries in vain to show  _ him  _ how to shake his rump.  Beca watches it all and tries not to laugh too much, not wanting Violet to be distracted from dozing off.

Softly, she says to herself, “I predict she’ll be in the pool in less than fifteen minutes.  Probably with all her clothes on.”

But no sooner has she said this than Chloe suddenly stops dancing and raises her voice.  “Everyone!   _ Everyone _ !” she slurs in delirious joy.  Yanking her shirt off, she hollers, “Let’s go topless!”

“Orrr, maybe not,” Beca corrects herself, watching as a good portion of the rest of the crowd cheers and whips their own shirts off.

Violet is still  trying to keep an increasingly sleepy eye on the party.  Not raising her head from Beca’s shoulder, she lifts one droopy arm and points, murmuring from the very edge of slumber, “Mommy.”

“Yep,” Beca confirms.  “That’s Mommy.  She’s having fun, huh?”  To herself, she adds, “Hopefully she’ll still be conscious enough for some grown-up fun when we get home.  Because alcohol makes her very…  _ creative _ .”  Then she immediately looks appalled at herself, glancing down at the baby.  “You don’t know what that means yet, do you?”

But it seems she doesn’t need to worry; Violet is finally asleep. 

Leaving the window, Beca carries her over to the bed and gently lays her down in the middle of it.  Retrieving some of the blankets that she’s now glad Chloe had insisted they bring, she tucks them around the baby, feeling one of those unpredictable surges of pure love for her daughter that still have the power to terrify her with their raw, primal force.

She sits down on the edge of the bed and waits for a few minutes, watching Violet sleep, making sure she’s really, truly out cold.  

Then she smiles to herself as she hears from the open window an eruption of loud cheers followed by one massive splash.

  
  



End file.
